Food Queen (Completed)

Chapter 9

The thick autumn air is twisting my hair as I walk the short way from the car to the giant redbrick school building.

One week has passed since my saving maneuver of Liam. The somewhat frightening thing about this is that someone has called me every day since. Hidden number. Maybe the police saw me and now they're trying to arrest me nicely for stepping inside a stranger's house? Or the fact that I saw a black van on my way to school. I'm legally an adult, maybe they've got my number.
It's a silly idea but I don't know who else it could possibly be.

---

First rehearsal is psychologi. My bag, stuffed with materials such as pencils, books and rulers, is dangling from my shoulder as I run up the stairs.
A silent gasp twists my stomach. Loud voices and sounds from moving feet are coming from the floor above. I burst the last metres leading to the second floor, making my way to Kylie as fast as possible. The sight meeting my orbs when I reach the narrow corridor makes me halt in a split second.

Boys and girls are crowding everywhere. Laughing, talking loudly about the annual October prom while flipping rulers at the cupboards, noicily walking to their classes. I curl my fingers into hard fists. It's not really them making me nervous, it's the fact that they are so many. It makes my heart race and my head spin unnaturally fast, my skin getting a tone of aggressivly red.
I hate it.

The worst thing is the painfull vulnerable feeling of being insecure. To always be forced on the run, always ready to take off. Like a roe deer, shy and innocent like only animals can be. Running from the hungry wolves in the hallway. I am stuck in the body a victim. Frozen from inside. Prom is a problem I don't even want to think about.
Yet I can't stop reflecting if I would like to go. Perhaps FE college is different?

Sneakily I choose my way sideways through a couple of girls. Talking gossip as usuall. Praying and hoping they will not notice the girl with blossom red cheeks making her way past them.

Their group isn't big. About three, all with a piercing somewhere on their teenaged bodies. One has a silver ring in her under lip. I catch myself wondering how it feels like kissing her. Does it feel cold? Solid? Watery? Like kissing a fish?
Then one of them grabs my elbow and pulls me into the middle of their circle.

"Hey Rose, how was it? Is he really that afraid of spoons?"

The girl who asked, a ginger, wearing a white sweatshirt and a blue bandana round her red head has a ring in her nose. Thin and with a small blue stone on it, matching her bandana perfectly.
I wish that I could slap myself for bumbing into her of all persons.
Clarisse. She talks about everything with everyone for hours.
I close my purple orbs.

"In fact. He really is."

While focusing on breathing I try finding a way out.

"I led him all the way home but he was in such a bad condition barely even Harry could comfort him."

With that I find a gap and rip myself free, fasten my pace towards Kylie waiting for me by the classroom doors.

"Hello there lostiful. Collage life goes on but some of us are still as inmature as High school kids." she says with a sunny smile.

"You don't say." I murmur as a reply, making sure only she can hear it.

---

As a tall person with long legs it don't take long before I reach my old Ford Fiesta. The red car is gleaming, picking out among the other ones. I drop behind the wheel, pulling away from the bushy schoolyard.

The London traffic is by far one of the worst places to drive. Greenlight, redlight, car horns. Drivers impatiently trying to get home from work. The yellow headlights lighten up the dark driveway. As the radio starts playing Stairway to heaven I remember that there, according to the world of music, is a Stairway to heaven and a highway to hell.
The learning of this is certainly not good, as I am currently driving on a highway.
I am obviously going for hell.

When I reach the parts of the city almost at our house, red leaves are elegantly swirling by in the wind.
I slow down, driving towards our street. Suddenly my left pocket starts to vibrate. I drive to a temporary parking lot, pull the handbrake and hand up my phone. The name showing on the display are very familiar.

"Hello Kylie."

"Rose. I am so sorry to bother you, but can you please pick me up in Earl Shilton? Takes thirty minutes from London. I pay the gas. Head south."

Due to the sound of her voice she seems stressed. Really stressed. She's panting violently, her voice's going frequently up and down and I can tell she's close to tears. Punting and quivering.
How did she end up in Earl Shilton so soon after school? I thought she had gymnastics parctice.

"Take it easy Kylie. I'll come for you, and I know where Earl Shilton is."

A breath of relief drops from the other side as if she had held her breath for all to long. It sounds like her whole body unties from many hard tangled knots.

"Thank you Rose, thank you so much! There are no buses this time of day. The next are coming eight thirty. Can you believe it, eight thirty!"

"No worries, I'll come for you. Where can I pick you up?"

"By the church."

"I'll be there within thirty minutes."

I release the handbrake, pulling out from the sidewalk. Changning direction to south and navigate through the crowded streets of London.